Page 4 of Be Your Forever
“I went to see Max earlier today. I guess I’ve been distracted.” I shrug.
“Ah damn. How is he doing?” One of Gage's redeeming qualities is his empathy. I guess it's inevitable when you grow up with three younger sisters. There's more to him than meets the eye, but for some reason, he keeps a huge part of him under lock and key.
“He’s doing okay. He has most of his range of motion in his arm, but Max being Max tends to overdo it. He’s struggling with not working right now, and it fucking sucks seeing him like that. And then when I think about seeing him connected to what looked like hundreds of tubes, my mind falls down a rabbit hole.” The image of seeing my best friend hooked up to medical equipment will forever be burned into my brain.
January 2026 (The day of the accident)
It’s my favorite day of the week: crunching numbers and making sure the bar is in the green. I am knee deep in receipts and paperwork when I hear my phone buzz. I glance at the caller ID, and when I see Max’s mom’s name, Colleen, flash across my screen, something in my gut tells me to answer it.
“Hello?” My tone quivers ever so slightly. Panic is a snake that slithers its way up my throat, threatening to wrap around my neck and squeeze the life out of me.
“Hi, sweetheart. I-I’m so s-sorry to call, but there’s been an accident.” Loud buzzing fills my ears, and I barely make out what she said.
Accident.
Drunk driver.
Max.
Bri.
I have never hung up a phone so fast. I snatch my keys from my desk, and the second I am behind the wheel, I break about a dozen laws. I don’t give a shit. I have to get to my best friend and my…my Bri. This hospital is so damn familiar to me now that I hardly need the nurses' guidance. With the amount of times I had to pick my brother up from the many times he had to get his stomach pumped, I could walk these halls with a blindfold. Then there was that time Cas was shot by his father. I really don’t want to be back here so soon, but I push back the trauma tied to this place. My best friend and love of my life are here. I curse the slow elevator, attempting to rid myself of my anxiety through the incessant tapping of my foot. Normally, I’d be the person who holds the door open for anyone needing to get on, but not this time. My finger hurts from how hard I repeatedly press the third floor button.
After the elevator's snail pace-like climb, I run right into Colleen and Liam’s arms. It’s hard to tell who’s more upset because we are all a combined shaky, hot mess. I squeeze a little harder before I pull back and guide us to those stupid maroon chairs before asking what happened.
“What? H-How?” I stammer out.
“They were hit by a drunk driver running a red light. Bri has a few stitches and bruises, as well as a minor concussion. The doctors are finishing up with her now.” Liam’s normally steady voice is rough and shaky.
“And Max?” Colleen and Liam exchange a look before expressing the extent of his injuries.
“Max suffered the most. He has some minor internal bleeding from a punctured lung caused by some broken ribs. His entire left leg will require surgery from the multiple fractures. He’ll also require surgery for his right arm as well as his shoulder and collarbone. The doctors said he also suffered some grade two soft tissue damage and has a severe concussion. He’s currently in surgery now, and we’re just waiting until we can go see him.”
Fuck. It’s a miracle they’re able to somewhat function with both of their babies being checked on. A door from one of the rooms opens, and without even looking up, I know it’s her. I’ve been in tune with Brianna ever since I met her—I just didn’t realize what that meant until it was too late. Shit, I still don’t know what happened the day she went from wanting to be around me to despising my entire existence. My blue eyes meet her gold-rimmed amber ones, and I freeze. Just looking into her eyes puts me in a trance. The rich honey color reminds me of those videos where they make caramel. Even with gauze covering her left temple and a pretty significant bruise on her collarbone, she is radiant.
I freeze like a deer in headlights when she sees me. I stand up, ready to leave and allow her space to grieve, but she surprises me. I thought she’d lay into me like she has in the past. But she runs at me like a puppy greeting its owner after being gone all day. The wind is briefly knocked out of me, and we’re seconds away from collapsing onto the ground. With Bri’s legs wrapped around my waist, I somehow manage to get us on the floor with minimal clumsiness as we sit together while she weeps in my arms. I hug her tight against my chest while peppering soft kisses on the crown of her head. Her clinging to me is as much for me as it is for her. I love to be needed, it gives me a sense of pride and accomplishment—probably one of the reasons I love bartending so much. But there’s nothing like being needed by her. Being needed by the one person whose entire existence makes your heart beat with purpose. We stay like that until it’s time for me to leave. I offer to take her home, but she insists on staying put. The drive home is a dissociated blur, unable to feel anything but the lingering warmth from her touch.
I think about that day often. I swear, my heart stopped for a moment when I got that call. I’m still grateful that Gage was there that night, because one look at my panicked expression and he knew. Anytime I mention my appreciation to him, he just shrugs it off. He isn’t much of a talker, so it makes sense for him. My arms tingle at the memory of Bri in my arms. I sometimes have a hard time believing that she chose me to run to. I’ve had about a dozen scenarios in my head as to why she’d want to seek comfort in my arms.She was in shock. She didn’t realize it was me. She actually doesn’t hate me, and this was her way of showing me.Okay, maybe that last one is wishful thinking, but remembering how distraught Bri was that day still sends shivers down my spine. Then I think about Cas and Avery’s wedding a few months ago, and how she let me touch her. It was a simple touch, a gentle squeeze of her thigh, but she didn’t shrug me off. Both of those incidents might seem small to most, but to me they are everything.
The wedding was the last time I saw Bri. Normally, I’d find an excuse to see her whether it’s suggesting to Avery that they have a girls’ day at Aces, or I’m “accidentally” crashing a sibling hang out. Just being around her bathes me in a sense of calmness. I’ve desperately wanted to reach out to her many times, but I’m not sure if she wants to see me. If I’m being honest with myself, I’m desperately holding onto the tiny glimpse of a vulnerable Bri. She isn’t one to ask for help, claiming it makes her look weak. And letting me touch her like that? She’s probably hating herself even more. As for me, I'll take any vulnerability Bri is willing to give me. She also needs time to recover—I’m just not sure if that healing journey includes me. However, if she asks, I’ll do anything to be her anchor.
The door to the bar opens, and in walks Avery, Bri’s best friend. She looks around the crowded bar, searching for someone when her eyes lock with mine. She gives me a sad smile before walking toward me.
“Avery. Hey, what’s up?”
“Can we talk? Somewhere private?” Avery fiddles nervously with her fingers, clearly worried about something. My mind blanks at what could be troubling her, but I nod toward the office before responding.
“Yeah. We can talk in my office.” I wave in the direction of the tiny space, signaling for her to go first. I turn toward Gage, but I don’t have to say anything. He understands.
“Have a seat. Do you want any water or anything? I can easily go and grab something from the bar,” I suggest.
“Oh, no thank you. I’m good. How’s Max? His parents have been telling me you’ve been stopping by.” Avery’s voice is soft with an undertone of pain. I know her and Max go back a few years, so I can imagine how painful this must be for her.
“He’s hanging in there. He’s still in the boot, but the doctors are weaning him off of it. He still has his sense of humor and often compares himself to Iron Man. So given the circumstances, I’d say he’s doing better than most would in his situation. How are you handling everything? I know you have a complicated relationship with hospitals, given everything that happened with Cas.” Cas, my friend and Avery’s husband, has been in the hospital twice—once because of an overdose, and the other when his father shot him in the stomach. Having more people you care about struggling with injuries has to be hard.
“It’s been tough. I hated seeing Max and Bri in the hospital. I’m glad they’re okay, but it was still a shock when it happened. Speaking of Bri,have you seen or talked to her lately?” Avery’s eyes fill with concern, and my gut instinct tells me I’m not going to like what she tells me next.
“I haven’t. I didn’t know if she wanted me around, or if she just needed time to herself. Why, what’s wrong?” My voice cracks at the end, giving way to fear that something is not okay.
